


Diet

by Vince_Vallery



Series: Hummel Family Values [7]
Category: Glee
Genre: Eating Disorders, Gen, M/M, Parental Discipline, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-25
Updated: 2013-05-25
Packaged: 2017-12-12 21:57:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/816498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vince_Vallery/pseuds/Vince_Vallery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Cheerio's diet has gotten out of hand. And one of the worst sufferers seems to have gone unnoticed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Diet

**Author's Note:**

> set during season 1 episode 16; Home

“Mercedes collapsed in the cafeteria!” Tina declared from her seat between Artie and Kurt. The whole group, the whole skating rink, could tell the highly emotional girl was trying her hardest to hold back tears while Mr. Shuester attempted to get the complete story from her. “She went on this crazy diet for Cheerios and passed out...” she sobbed hopelessly. 

Walking away from the supremely uncomfortable situation that was glee rehearsal that day Kurt just about made it to his car when a very familiar voice asked, “and what have you had to eat today?” turning around the male soprano aimed a glare at Quinn Fabray, “enough.” he bit returning to digging for his keys.

“You know more boys die as a result of anorexia then girls do?” the pregnant girl stated. “How fascinating.” Kurt replied rolling his eyes at the knowing tone, “but I’m not anorexic.” he assured her tossing his bag into the passenger seat of his beloved navigator. “And it’s not really your business if I am.” he finished sliding behind the wheel.

Reaching in Quinn halted the keys going onto the ignition meeting glasz eyes with her concerned green gaze, “you’re at a higher risk then Mercedes ever was of going to far with a diet.” she lectured kindly, “despite what you might think a lot of us care about you.” her thin fingers squeezed around his for emphasis then let go. Before Kurt had the opportunity to drive away Quinn tossed a granola bar in his lap. 

The following morning Kurt stared across the table at his dad rushing around the kitchen, beef jerky hanging from his mouth. “Dad you need to eat better.” he sighed lifting the cup of coffee between his hands, “Slim Jims and coke are not a proper breakfast.” That stopped Burt in his tracks. 

“I’m not the only one that need to eat better.” Burt countered. The heaving sigh he got said this conversation was going to be a battle but it had to happen. “I’m on a diet.” Kurt retorted putting his coffee cup down harder then necessary, “I’m a cheerleader now. No! I’m Cheerio.” he rationalized, “ and baby fat isn’t a part of the Cheerio’s image.” he finished standing.

Catching Kurt’s wrist as the boy tried to stalk away Burt turned the diminishing child back toward him. “Whoever told you you had any sort of fat is crazy.” he stated, “You’re quitting this crazy diet now.” He swatted Kurt once to set the message in, “understood.” Burt asked staring into those bright eyes. 

Pulling his hand from his dad’s grasp Kurt glared at him, “completely.” he spat turning to head into his basement. With a sigh of his own Burt reached out snagging the collar of Kurt’s shirt, “not so fast buddy.” he said pulling the light weight kid back to him, “breakfast, then you can avoid me.”

After the coldest breakfast ever, not that the food was cold but the glares Burt was getting from across the table were freezing, the Hummel men went their separate ways for the day. Thanks to the morning confrontation, among other things, Kurt was in a mood.

By the time lunch rolled around Kurt had snapped at half the glee club and ignored several teachers pointedly. “Are you still insisting on dieting?” Mercedes asked sitting her plate next to the can of V8 Kurt decided was lunch. “What ever keeps me a Cheerio.” he returned waspishly. “I just don’t think it’s worth- the diva started but was cut off by her best friend, “you do what you want Mercedes.” he snipped, “don’t lecture me though.” then Kurt was off, leaving his mostly full can of juice behind. 

Mercedes was so stunned she didn’t realized the blonde sitting beside her. “He’s still fighting.” Quinn observed plainly. 

In his attempt to flee the food police Kurt crossed paths with his crush. Doubling back the slight boy caught up with the lumbering jock at his locker, “Finn we need to talk.” he started casting a glance behind him to make sure Mercedes hadn’t followed, last thing he needed was Finn to be bombarded with ‘eating disorder’ bull. 

Once the two worked out a plan to break up their parents Kurt headed off, skipping glee rehearsal because he didn’t need another scolding from Preggo or Cedes about food. Not that Mr. Shue would notice anyway. And since his dad wouldn’t be home for a while Kurt decided he could clean a bit then start dinner. Unfortunately when the Navigator pulled into the drive way dad’s truck was already in it’s spot. 

“No glee club tonight?” Burt asked hearing the front door. “I wasn’t feeling well.” Kurt lied automatically making a b-line for his basement. “Alright, well,” Burt started rising from his chair, “I wanted to talk to you about the other day,” he explained meeting his son at the basement door, “and this morning.” aiming a look at his dad Kurt sighed, “could I change out of my Cheerios uniform?” he asked wrapping his arms around himself. “Sure thing buddy.” Burt agreed patting his kid on the shoulder.

Burt had gotten pretty good at estimating how long it took for his kid to shed his public image for one of his slightly different at home looks. Given what Kurt was wearing Burt concluded thirty minutes so he was getting a little annoyed when forty five minutes, then an hour, and finally an hour and a half passed with hardly a noise from the basement. 

“Kurt?” dad asked at the basement door. “Are you awake?” he asked opening the door and heading down the stairs. Burt’s irritation spiked when he got to the bottom of the stairs and found his boy sitting on the floor in the middle of his ‘room’ flipping through a fashion magazine. “Changing?” Burt hummed looming over the fashionable young man. 

“I did.” Kurt replied not bothering to look up. “And then you were supposed to come up so we could talk.” dad reminded crossing his arms over his chest. A shrug was Kurt’s answer. Not nearly the right answer though. Reaching down Burt took hold of Kurt’s arm hauling the slim kid up to stand. 

Swatting that fashionable butt Burt leveled a stern look at his stubborn kid. “Wrong answer kiddo.” Burt stated landing another spank to his boy’s rear. “Now get your butt upstairs.” Dad ordered with a final swat before releasing his hold on Kurt’s upper arm. The glare Burt got from those glasz eyes was kin to the one he received that morning, save a little watery. Still that brat marched himself up the stairs, aiming looks to kill at his dad the whole way. 

“You can just find yourself a corner up there and get comfortable.” Burt called then regretted not following directly behind when the basement door slammed. Taking a moment to let himself cool down Burt picked up the magazine his kid was reading intending to put away. After realizing he didn’t know where Kurt kept his collection of fashion magazines Burt dropped the book on that weird bed thing he wasn’t sure Kurt even slept in. 

On his way up the stairs Burt heard the phone ringing. Ducking into the livingroom to make sure his kid had his nose in a corner Burt grabbed the phone. “Hummels.” he greeted eliciting a groan from the lithe child standing in the corner. Kurt had been not so subtly training his dad to answer the phone like he was a person at home and not as though he were still at the tire shop. 

Ignoring his kid’s non-verbal protest Burt listened to his girlfriend’s plight nodding, not that she could see, at the appropriate intervals. After his first few dates with Carole Burt was surprised how easy communicating with women had become from talking with, mostly, only Kurt for eight years. When Carole broke off their date Burt sighed, over the phone it sounded disappointed, in relief. He wasn’t quite sure he could go out and leave his kid after the talk he had planned. 

“Alright, we can try again later this week.” Burt offered before falling silent again. Hearing his dad shuffle around behind him Kurt tensed. Wrapping his arms protectively around himself the male Cheerio bit down on his lip staring hard at the corner until his dad’s rough voice bid Carole farewell. At the click of the phone being hung up Kurt visibly winced. 

“I don’t suppose I gotta tell ya that was Carole?” Burt started, “she had a fight with Finn.” he told causing Kurt to laugh a little bitterly. “You think I should give him a licking?” Burt joked pulling his kid out of the corner to his side. “Maybe not until after we’re married.” Kurt smiled pressing his forehead against his dad’s shoulder. “We’re?” Dad asked raising an eyebrow. “As a family?” the lithe soprano covered quickly. 

“Ok, Finn doesn’t get it until we’re legally a family.” Burt confirmed guiding his son to the couch. “Now.” dad started sitting his kid down, “we need to talk about the other day.” 

Resting his head on his dad’s shoulder Kurt sighed, “we already talked.” the soprano tried. “And since then I had a little chat with Carole.” Burt told, “mostly about your eating habits.” he clarified, “and she thinks it has something to do with the major change going on in our family.” dad said rubbing a slight shoulder. 

“I’m fine.” Kurt grumbled against flannel. “Should we make an appointment with Dr. Shane?” Burt asked seriously. Pulling away from the comforting arm around his shoulders Kurt rose to stomp an angry foot, “I don’t want to go back to therapy!” 

Burt understood, it seemed like the last time Kurt had gone to see Dr. Shane she wasn’t interested in more then prescribing pills that did little but make his withdrawn son even more reclusive. “If you lose anymore weight we’re going to a doctor.” he warned keeping glasz gaze. 

“I had a fucking growth spurt dad!” Kurt yelled frustrated. All the color, what little color there was, drained from the younger Hummels face in the quiet of the livingroom. “I’m sorry.” the thin young man started stiffly but it was to late. 

“Do you swear?” Burt asked evenly. “No dad.” was the reply from the now trembling kid standing just beside him. Raising slowly Burt nodded to his kid turning the slight boy toward the kitchen. “I don’t like hearing that sort of language from you.” dad lectured directing Kurt to the sink where that nasty orange soap dwelled.

Taking out the Tupperware container that held the soap, making Kurt cringe, Burt liberated the barely used ancient orange bar. Running the bar of soap under the tap wetting it enough to form a lather dad held it up to his kid’s trembling mouth. “You’re to smart to be resorting to swearing.” Burt scolded waiting for Kurt to open his mouth. 

Taking a shuttering breath Kurt did, finally, open his mouth just wide enough for his dad to put the sudsy bar on his tongue. “Hold.” Burt instructed. Not that he needed to as they’d done this maybe three times since Kurt learned to talk. Once Kurt had clamped down on the bar of soap Burt turned him toward the table seating his lanky kid on one of the hard wood chairs Burt watched the chastised boy while he counted to ten slowly.

“Ten mashed potato.” Burt recited taking the end of the bar of soap hanging out of his kids mouth. “Go ahead and spit.” he allowed grinning as Kurt bolted passed him back to the sink. Permitting his kid to spit and gage at the sink for a few minutes Burt rinsed the soap off then returned it to it’s tupperware prison. “Now.” Burt started with a grin, “are you ready to talk?”  
“No.” Kurt gasped half in the sink. Patting the bottom hanging from the sink Burt chuckled, “try just hearing me out then buddy.” 

Raising himself out of the kitchen sink Kurt gave his dad a guarded look but let Burt lead him back to the comfort of the couch. “What more can you say about that dinner?” the finicky boy asked skeptically. “That no matter what happens with me and Carole you’re my kid.” Burt countered running calloused fingers threw thick dark hair.

“Carole and me.” Kurt corrected waspishly. “Yeah,” Burt crowed dragging that skinny body over his knee and playfully swatting the upturned butt a handful of times, “you’re the smart one in this outfit.” the childish shrieks and giggles being entirely worth all the aggravation his son could be.

Mercedes felt her blood pressure jump when she walked into the cafeteria and saw the tin Cheerios water bottle beside Kurt. That bottle meant one thing! Her boy was drinking Sue’s ‘Master Cleanse’ and that was completely unacceptable. “Oh, Hell-to-the NO.” stalking over to that, already, skinny bitch Cedes snatched up the bottle standing maliciously on the table. 

“Have you completely lost your mind?” she shouted shaking the offending bottle at her query. “Hello Mercedes how are you today?” the male soprano greeted sarcastically turning away from the conversation he was attempting with Brittany. “I’m about to smack you right upside your head.” the diva announced once more indicating the Cheerios bottle. “What are you doing drinking this shit?” she demanded. 

A look of openly mocking confusion answered Mercedes raging concern, “I didn’t know you had a problem with water?” he said simply. “Water my ass.” Mercedes replied popping the lid off of the bottle and sniffing what was within. “That’s not water!” she told putting the bottle back onto the table, perhaps a bit more forcefully then she intended. 

Snatching the bottle from Mercedes grasp Kurt’s playfully mocking eyes turned to a hard glare but the pale boy refused to ‘dignify’ his boisterous friend with any sort of response. Aside from flouncing away. Unfortunately that didn’t work as well as it had the day before. Mercedes just followed her fellow glee clubber catching him by a boney elbow and turning him to face her. “What is going on with you?” the sassy girl demanded. 

“Does it matter?” Kurt asked sounding offended, “Coach Sylvester was never going to kick you off Cheerios, you’re to important to her grand scheme.” he wasped pulling a porcelain arm from Mercedes’ weakening grasp, “and now you’ve got your confirmation that no matter what you’re beautiful so why do you care?” turning back to his route of escape Kurt tried to laugh away the tears in his voice, “why start caring about anyone else?” airy soprano sighed pushing through the cafeteria doors. 

Standing stunned where Kurt left her Mercedes shook off the heavy feeling in her chest when Brittany approached with the container that started the whole argument, “Kurt forgot his diet coke?” the ditsy blond proclaimed handing the bottle over to Mercedes. “Thank you Brittany.” the shocked diva returned. 

Walking into the choir room Mercedes looked around at the scattered groups, but no Kurt. Diverting to where Rachel and her equally obnoxious boyfriend Jesse sat at the piano bench, where Kurt would usually be if he were there, the newest Cheerio asked, “have you guys seen Kurt since lunch?” and was given an ugly look from Jesse. “No, I dare say we’ve gone almost all week without seeing him?” Rachel answered almost proud of her success at avoiding their sassy gay. 

“Alright, thanks.” Mercedes mumbled glancing around again in the hopes that her skinny ass white boy was just doing his melting into the walls trick. “If you’re looking for the mayor of gay town he’s in the weight room trying to exhaust himself on the treadmill.” Santana told, “apparently nobody told him anorexia was for girls.” Ignoring Santana’s bitchy add-on Mercedes made off for the weight room in a dead run. 

“Welcome back to the world Lady.” Kurt heard slowly opening his eyes the male Cheerio groaned at the sight of Sue Sylvester, “please tell me I’m not in the nurse’s office.” the soprano begged. If that was the case two things were about to happen; one, he was getting kicked off the Cheerios for inconveniencing Coach Sylvester, and two, his dad was going to make certain that he wouldn’t be able to sit comfortably again until he gained back about twenty pounds. On top of all of that Kurt was pretty sure he would be forced to see Dr. Shane again, and go back onto the medication that made him nothing but tired. 

“You’re not in the nurse’s office.” Sue answered dryly handing the kid the glass of water she’d been holding since she brought him to her office when he passed out. “Could you tell me what you thought you were doing running, what I could only guess was, an attempt at a Marathon on that treadmill?” the cold lady inquired as she rose to stand hovering over one of her two vocalist. 

Pushing himself off of the floor, noting the pillow that had been placed under his head, Kurt struggled to sit up right. “I didn’t want to go to Glee rehearsal but I had time to kill before the pep rally.” he answered squinting at the floor he’d just been laying on. “Sounds reasonable.” Sylvester nodded circling her desk and busying herself with something in the vast amount of drawers there. Pulling himself into one of the chairs in front of the Cheer Coach’s desk Kurt was surprised to be faced with a plate baring two cookies and a glass of orange juice.

Point at the juice Sue directed, “you will drink all of that and have eaten both those cookies before I let you even stand with the rest of the Cheerios today.” picking up the glass Kurt drank a bit of juice obediently. “Messing around with this sort of dieting Lady? You can do some seriously damage.” Sylvester warned pointing at the cookies and snapping her fingers. “You’re the one that said I should loose some weight..” Kurt defended, “..and called me pear hips.” 

“Gay kid you’re supposed to be smarter then that.” the arrogant woman shot back out of temper, “and eat a damn cookie for crying out loud.” she demanded pushing the plate slightly, “I thought you would have been able to determine whether I mean something or not.” Sue lectured, “and if you can’t you had better start trying harder because with your sexuality and soft features there are going to be a lot of grey area conversations coming your way.” 

Deciding he didn’t have the energy to decipher Coach Sylvester’s crazy just now Kurt sighed, “You’re not going to tell my dad I passed out are you?” he asked picking up the prescribed cookie. The look he got from Sue was classically overwrought with bewilderment, “I honestly thought you were being raised by a convent of sweet old nuns who consistently wonder how to solve a problem like Kurt Hummel?” she almost sang. And though she didn’t show it the lanky woman was relieved when her gay Cheerio smiled behind the cookie he was finally eating.

A knock at the door caused both prime bitches to adopt their customary glares, thankfully Kurt didn’t drop the cookie. “Come.” Sue shouted turning away from the intruder though she heard a groan escape the boy in her care indicating whom ever was entering was probably looking for him. “Coach- Kurt! I was looking for you everywhere.” Mercedes broke rushing to her ‘friend’. 

“Well you’ve found him so now the both of you can leave me to my pre-show preparations.” their coach supplied returning to her sour demeanor. When Kurt raised to leave though she coughed pointing to the remaining cookie. And with a roll of his unique eyes the male cheerleader snatched up the cookie taking a bite from it to show Sue he was, indeed, going to eat it. 

After leaving Sylvester’s office the pair walked down the hall for a long, quiet, moment before Mercedes started. “Should I ask?” to which Kurt replied, “you really shouldn’t, it was all to strange, I’ll have nightmares for years.” and with that order seemed to be restored. Well almost. 

“Kurt, I’ve gotta know,” the sassy girl pleaded stopping their aimless wandering, “what did you mean in the cafeteria?” Closing around himself the slender boy let go of a slightly shaky breath, “I..” he shrugged trying not to breakdown in such a public place, in front of another person, “was tired and hungry from dieting.” he lied offering a strained smile to prove he wasn’t, “didn’t mean anything.” and then he set off again. 

Catching up and matching Kurt’s stride Mercedes was less then convinced and she was more certain of her boy’s attempted deception when she saw the tears in his eyes. “Kurt.” she tried halting him again but was left at the entrance to the boy’s locker room with a hushed, “don’t look at me.” from a pain filled soprano.

“I was wrong..” those words echoed through Kurt’s head as he lay in the darkened basement. He was always wrong was the conclusion the lithe boy had come to as he waited for nothing particular. That nothing declared itself a moment or so later when dad called for him at the top of the stairs, allowing the harsh light of the upper level to break Kurt’s dungeon. 

“Whatcha doing in the dark?” Burt asked descending the stairs. Taking two deep, controlling, breathes Kurt tried to make sure he was as far from tears as possible when those lights came on. “Was tired.” the younger Hummel replied hoping that would account for his red rimmed eyes. “Well come on.” dad prompted crossing to the body on that weird not-bed, “going over to Carole’s.” he added when his kid didn’t make to get up. “You go ahead.” Kurt moaned turning onto his side away from his dad. 

Resting a hand on his moody kid’s hip Burt rolled him back so he could look into those unique eyes. Placing that same hand on pale forehead Burt went through the routine of checking for illness, “you feeling alright buddy?” he asked running his hand down the side of Kurt’s delicate face so he could feel pulse. Pushing Burt’s parentally probing hand away Kurt scowled, “I’m not sick.” 

“Should have said you were.” Burt grinned seizing the hand batting his away. With that hand he pulled his skinny boy up, “you’ve got five minutes to fix yourself up then I expect you up stairs.” Burt ordered standing the moping teenager and sending him toward his vanity with a swat. “I don’t want to go watch you be friends with Finn.” Kurt scowled seating himself on the designer, knock-off, chair in front of the mirrored table. “Five minutes.” dad left warning. 

Burt was definitely not getting roped into an argument before he could confront Finn, he didn’t need to bring that stress to the conversation he’d intended to have with his girlfriend’s kid. When the door clicked shut Kurt just stared at his reflection for a long minute, he only had five and his hair was a mess, “I was wrong.” light soprano recited dashing the tears those words caused to spring forth away. 

Standing by the front door Burt gave his kid an extra three minutes before hurrying him along, “come on Kurt!” dad called, “Carole don’t care if you’re less then perfect looking.” he didn’t add that Finn probably wouldn’t notice because no matter how it would be phrased that sentiment sounded mean. “If I gotta start counting..” Burt threatened but didn’t get the actual threat out as fast as his child was up those stairs. In a completely different outfit then the one he’d just been wearing. 

“You don’t need to dress up every time we see Carole.” Burt assessed looking his kid over. “Right, let us not strive to give your possible future wife the best image of our family.” Kurt huffed, “the family you might want her joining.” the soprano finished with a squeak as his dad decided that tone needed a bit of adjusting. “Are you seriously going to spank me before dragging me off to watch you console your new son?” Kurt accused incredulously, while guarding his rear with out turned hands. 

“Yup.” Burt replied simply turning the argumentative boy toward the door, “we can leave it at that one swat or you can keep baiting me and I’ll just call Carole and tell her we’re going to be another twenty minutes.” he informed evenly. Though dad’s voice was conversational his eyes were crinkling at the corners meaning he was aggravated. “Fine.” lithesome soprano spat throwing the door open, “no reason to get pissed.” earning himself a third smack in as many minutes. 

“You’d better check that attitude.” was the absolute last warning Burt was giving as he escorted his bratty kid to the passenger side of his truck. The ride over was quiet as Kurt opted to sulk. Once the Hummels got to the Hudson’s residence, easily within walking distance from their own house, the fight started a new. “Kurt get out of the truck.” Burt started when his frustrating son refused the first offer of, ‘let’s go.’ 

“I’m not leaving you in the truck all night.” he continued as Kurt kept ignoring him, “Kurt come on.” Burt was just about to physically pull the scrawny brat from his seat when Carole lay her hand on his shoulder. Turning away from the ongoing battle for one moment to kiss the wonderful woman hello Burt sighed pulling away, “someone’s being stubborn.” 

Nodding Carole leaned past her boyfriend so she could better see his son, “would it be alright if I stay out here with you honey while your dad goes inside and has a chat with Finn?” she asked pleasantly. “I don’t know?” Kurt returned, high voice full of spite, “is it ok DAD!” and Burt wanted so much to just jump back into that truck, drive back home, and stick his kid in the livingroom corner until that attitude changed. But Burt, against his better judgment, nodded at Carole, “go ahead.” 

When Burt had made his way into her house Carole finally looked back at Kurt. “Are you allowed to drink coffee this late?” she asked out of the blue. “Are you offering?” the stubborn boy returned with interest. 

Kurt and Carole migrated to her back patio after a round of questions and debate ended with Carole giving Kurt a mug of hot cocoa instead of the more preferred coffee. “I understand that you’re not used to sharing your dad.” she started after a long sociable silence. “That’s not why I’m mad at him.” Kurt replied cryptically before falling silent again. “Would you like to tell me why you’re mad at your dad?” Carole offered getting a negative head shake for her answer. “Are you going to tell him?” she asked curiously, Finn didn’t keep secrets not about emotional stuff, so Kurt’s behavior intrigued her.

“Maybe.” was the response she got for her intrigue. “Ok, then.” the single mother sighed, “lets go inside, it’s getting to cold out here.” Before Kurt could object or abstain from participating Carole ‘helped’ him out of her patio chair gently pushing the slender boy to the glass doors. When Kurt stalled, hand on the door handle, Carole looked in herself to find Burt in Chris’ chair watching basketball with Finn. 

“Come on.” she prompted opening the door herself and guiding the tense young man through. “Kurt, would you like to show me how to make that dessert.” Carole tried feeling the tension between her boyfriend and his son. “I want to go home.” Kurt breathed. “I guess we’re done here.” Burt stated looking over to Finn for confirmation. Before he could pull himself out of that recliner though Kurt was gone, back out Carole’s patio door. 

Catching up with his kid half down the street Burt grabbed a slim arm, perhaps rougher then he intended, and turned the pale kid to face him. “I don’t care what’s going on you do not just run off-” Burt started lecturing until his crying child pushed into him, freezing and in desperate need of comfort. “Don’t think you’re getting off easy for the way you acted.” he attempted to keep his voice stern. “I just want to go home.” tearful soprano wept into his dad’s shirt. 

There was an apology given back at the Hudson’s then Burt took his over exhausted kid home. Stopping the retreat to the basement Burt directed Kurt to the couch with a, “you’re done hiding.” after taking his own shoes off and locking up the single father joined his exotic son. “I was tired.” Kurt tried leaning into his dad’s side. “Try again kiddo, I know you tired and that was not it.” Burt countered rubbing lightly the arm he’d grabbed in the street.

“You wouldn’t understand.” Kurt finally broke pulling away as much as he could with Burt’s quick reflexes enabling him to catch one of those pale wrists before Kurt could flee again. “Try me.” he offered kindly settling the flighty boy back down beside him. “Carole said I don’t like sharing you.” Kurt started sounding a few years younger, which seemed impossible, “but I do really like her.” he confessed. 

“It’s Finn you don’t?” Burt asked seeing the extension from their ‘talk’ after the dinner at Breadsticks. Rolling glasz eyes Kurt decided to take another angle at this, because he couldn’t tell his dad that he was in fact in love with Finn, “I don’t know.” the soprano whined slumping against his dad. 

“I got mad because I was fighting with Mercedes all week about the diet I wasn’t supposed to be on.” Kurt confessed in a haughty rush. Taking a moment to figure out what he’d just heard Burt sighed, “what does that have to do with you being nasty all night?” he inquired having no idea where the connection was. “I was mad at Mercedes and you and..because everyone just wants to tell me what to do.” 

Kurt was regressing, probably because he was heading toward malnourished as well as being both mentally and emotionally drained, so Burt made a decision. “Go get the paddle.” he ordered plainly. “But..no.” Kurt objected even as he stood, “I didn’t do anything.” he continued wanting so much to stomp. “No?” dad started comically mocking confusion, “that wasn’t you throwing around all that attitude.” he asked, “or directly disobeying me by continuing with a dangerous diet I’d expressly ordered you to stop?” 

With a frustrated huff Kurt circled around to his most hated drawer swiftly pulling out the paddle. By the grace of his not yet suicidal brain Kurt stopped himself from throwing the round wooden ‘devise’ right at his dad’s head. Returning to stand at Burt’s side Kurt held out the paddle giving his dad a disinterested glare. “You know I’m going easy on you.” Burt offered taking the paddle with one hand and securing a hold on his son’s wrist with the other.

“After you said you wouldn’t.” 

The pure sarcasm in Kurt’s voice made Burt stop, “I think you need a time out.” he informed, Burt hadn’t liked the term ‘time out’ for quite a few years as it felt juvenile but with the way Kurt was behaving it was very appropriate. “DAD!” the slender boy shouted this time stomping his foot for emphasis. “Kurt.” Burt returned with a look that said he was neither amused or swayed, “I suggest you get.” he ordered swatting that skinny butt to get his kid going.

An entire life of obeying that tone sent Kurt straight to the corner where the prospect of waiting broke through the indignation that had kept him going. A few minutes of staring at the despairing wallpaper dad refused to let him paint over had Kurt fighting back tears with shuttering breath. From where he sat on the couch Burt listened to the progression of his kid regretting his actions and dissolving into remorse.

Of course that was how Kurt put it after the fact, Burt would be the very first to admit he was nowhere near as good with words as his overly articulate artistic son.

After about ten minutes of torture for both Hummels Burt called his kid back over. “Are you done fighting with me?” Burt asked steering his lanky child to stand between his knees. “I’m sorry.” was Kurt’s first attempt. That was promptly answered by dad asking him, “what are you sorry for?” making the exhausted teenager deflate slightly. “Being mean to you.” that soprano tried. 

“How about being sorry for hurting yourself?” Burt asked thoughtfully. “I wasn’t-” Kurt started but got cut off, which if he had done would have been grounds for a swat or two and a lecture on how interrupting was rude, “denying yourself food is hurting yourself.” dad informed, “and don’t you dare tell me that was a part of your cheerleading diet.” he warned. 

Bitting his lip Kurt looked away for the briefest of moments, it didn’t occur to him that his dad would figure that element out since most people thought of eating disorders as a vanity thing. “After..” Kurt drifted wrapping an arm around his suddenly aching stomach.

“After want buddy?” Burt asked growing concerned. “BreadSticks, after that I was so mad that you just walked away.” Kurt confessed staring blankly at the couch behind his dad, “I was upset and you walked away.” he reiterated feeling tears leak down his face. “You wanted space?” Burt defended slightly confused. “You’ve never walked away before.” his, now, completely distraught child returned, “not when I was mad or upset, even when I told you to leave me alone..never.” 

Not fully understanding his mistake Burt pulled his slender son down to sit on his lap. He was unprepared for the accusation that came in the form of a breathy soprano, “you just gave up.” Pulling Kurt around and forcing eye contact Burt shook his head, “kiddo..” but that was about all Burt could get out. 

“It’s fine dad.” Kurt announced pushing Burt’s hand from his chin so he could look away, “I was overreacting because of the hunger pains.” And though Burt wasn’t entirely convinced he nodded, “alright, well. That diet’s caused enough problems.” dad conceded, “starting tomorrow I’m going to monitor what you’re eating, which means we’ll be making you’re lunches, and if I don’t see some improvements we’re going to have a talk with Dr. Shane.” 

Accepting his dad’s edict Kurt made to stand back in pre-punishment position but was stopped by Burt closing him into a hug, “you know that I love you right?” he asked eliciting a faint smile and half laughed, “yes dad.” Giving his boy one last squeeze Burt stood Kurt back up and pulled him in-between his knees. 

“So tell me why we’re doing this?” dad started conversationally as he worked on unbuttoning Kurt’s jeans. Rolling his head back, part from fatigue and part to fully affect the temperamental mood he was in, Kurt droned, “I continued dieting even after you told me to stop.” smirking and shaking his head Burt pushed those skinny pants down the took a wrist. “That’s a good start.” he praised lowering his slender boy over his knee, “what else?” 

Pillowing his head on folded arms Kurt shrugged, “I guess I was being a brat.” which provoked a hearty laugh from his dad. “Guess?” he chuckled, “well it’s a good thing me and the paddle know for sure you were.” he informed relieving Kurt of his underpants. Patting the bared behind over his knee Burt sighed, “so lets get this over with.” 

The first real spank, without clothes to cushion the blow, was always a shock. Stinging far more then Kurt remembered. Not that the younger Hummel had time to reflect long on that first swat as Burt had started raining smacks all over Kurt’s vulnerable bottom. Deciding that lecturing was unnecessary Burt focused on turning that porcelain rear a rose pink. 

A few rounds of sound spanks and Kurt was openly crying soaking his sleeves. Another minute or so and the lanky teenager was struggling to not wiggle. When those long legs started kicking in the confines of the pants tangled past his knees Burt reasoned that it was time to switch to the paddle. Resting his stinging hand on a pale, untouched, thigh. 

“Ok, kiddo.” Burt said, “almost done.” he reassured. Picking the dreaded paddle Burt wacked it against the ivory thigh, “what did we learn from this?” he asked giving the other thigh a good smack. “Listen?” Kurt panted through tears. “Listen?” dad mimicked. “Don’t hurt myself to get back at you?” the male soprano tried again.

The steady rhythm of paddle landing on soft flesh stopped abruptly, “WHAT?” Burt asked nearly dropping the paddle. Pushing up in his elbows Kurt aimed his tear filled eyes at his dad over shoulders struggling to hold him up, “no more diet.” the lithe boy covered, or attempted to. Landing a firm swat with the paddle, right in the center of Kurt’s angry red butt, Burt renewed his efforts.

“Hurting yourself to get revenge on me is emotional blackmail and completely unacceptable.” dad lectured aiming a series of heavy spanks right at the crease of Kurt’s butt and thighs, “you talk to me when you’ve got a problem.” he told keeping a blistering pace, “even if that problem’s with me.” that said Burt rested the paddle on his son’s red hot backside, “is that understood?” 

By the time his dad had stopped paddling him Kurt had resided to laying limp and whimpering with almost every spank. He hadn’t even realized the spanking had stopped until well after his dad asked if his lecture was understood. “Yeeeeeessssss.” the slight boy whined. Giving his emotional child five more swats with the wretched paddle Burt was satisfied. Pulling his still weeping boy up onto his lap Burt rubbed a shuttering arm.

“If you ever consider hurting yourself come talk to me.” Burt pleaded holding his delicate child close, “or talk to someone before you act.” listening to the soothing sound of his dad’s voice, no longer aggravated, Kurt worked on calming down. “I would never actually hurt myself.” Kurt confessed against Burt’s worn flannel shirt. Figuring they’d talked enough for the night Burt stood his kid up once more helping adjust his clothes. 

Finally fixed up Burt hugged Kurt tight, “we’re not done talking about this kiddo.” he warned.


End file.
